


doe, a deer, a two-headed deer

by kindclaws



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Gen, Lots of Disney Songs, Radiation Made Them Do It, The 100: The Musical!, spontaneous singing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:19:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindclaws/pseuds/kindclaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>97 years after the nuclear apocalypse kills everyone on Earth, 100 teenagers (and one disgruntled stowaway) are sent to the ground in a desperate gamble to see if Earth has become survivable since then. They soon discover that although nonlethal, the radiation has some... Interesting effects.<br/>Namely, forcing everyone to spontaneously burst into song at key moments. Also, perfectly-timed dance choreography. You know. The usual radiation shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tracks I-III: Under The Trees, I'll Be Your Rebel King, An Irradiated World

**Author's Note:**

> The author has zero regrets. Zero, you hear me? Title taken from Do-Re-Mi from the Sound of Music.  
> I'd recommend giving a quick listen to the following songs before you read the chapter, if you're not familiar with them:  
> Under The Sea from the Little Mermaid soundtrack  
> I Just Can't Wait To Be King from the Lion King soundtrack  
> A Whole New World from the Aladdin soundtrack.
> 
> I assume I don't need a disclaimer since this is fanfiction, but just in case, I totally don't own Disney or any of the other musicals/movies this fic will reference.

We've heard the story before - a sanctuary in space, ruled by iron fists and caged by iron walls. Seventeen years and eleven months before the pieces fall, a girl is born. Others follow in quick succession, never knowing as they sleep in makeshift cradles and worn-out blankets that they will be the first to live and die on the Earth below. A sister is hidden under the floor. A mother is elected to the Council. A father discovers a flaw in the system, knows it intimately when he kisses his daughter goodbye and is sent into void. A brother makes a mistake, and a girl spends a year drawing on four blank walls.

A gamble is made, one hundred teenagers are sent on their final journey to the ground, and the silence that settles after they crash into the forest - well, that silence is the cue to start making noise, isn't it?

So we begin. 

 

**TRACK ONE**

 

At the start of it all, Clarke Griffin calls out a warning.

"Stop!" she yells over the sound of conversing teenagers. She skips the last two steps on the ladder so she can push her way to the front of the dropship faster, to stop the boy that's reached it first and has his hand on the lever. "The air could be toxic!"

He turns when she speaks, slowly, like he's hoping she'll be gone if he takes long enough, and then she sees he's not a boy at all, but a man, several years out of place amongst them.

"If the air's toxic we're all dead anyway," he says flatly, and Clarke supposes he's right, considering Jaha refused to supply them with anything that might keep them alive, but that doesn't mean he can just throw all caution to the wind! A moment later their imminent doom is stalled by the arrival of the infamous sister, the girl under the floor, and Clarke takes a step back as Octavia threatens to leap into a fist fight. Then she can only watch as the strange man - Bellamy, they call him - makes his sibling a promise as he yanks the lever down. 

The door unseals with a hiss, pressurized air fleeing the dropship's cabin and smudging their first glimpses of the world in the crack of the descending ramp with fog. Later, Clarke will remember this as the moment it began, and struggle to remember if she felt any unusual symptoms - dizziness, or nausea, or pain in her joints - but she will recall only that terrified euphoria of standing at the top of the ramp when it falls on the ground with a muffled thud. Clarke breathes in deeply as Octavia takes her first, hesitant step down the ramp, her head leaned back to look at the towering green trees above them, her arms slightly spread as though to experience as much as she can before the radiation inevitably kills them. The air is... sweet. She expected it to feel wrong if it was toxic, as naive as that might have been, but instead it settles in her lungs like it's always belonged there.

"Never thought it'd be so green," Octavia says quietly, halfway down the ramp and taking slow, deliberate steps. Except, no, that's not right. She doesn't say it. She  _sings_ it, her voice undeniably melodious. The boy behind Bellamy takes an enchanted step forward, eyes fixed on the lush forest, and Bellamy throws his arm out to stop him. 

"Stay back, first step is Blake's," he warns, and his voice sounds different too - still a speaking tone, but somehow following the rhythm Octavia's just begun. 

"We dreamt about coming down here, they bid us die for our mistakes," Octavia continues, her voice picking up volume and strength as she goes. She stops suddenly at the foot of the ramp, then hops down with both feet. Clarke longs to join her so fiercely that she's surprised how much it hurts, like a hook dug into her chest and tugging her forward, towards that same soft Earth Octavia is now looking down at reverently. She throws her arms out suddenly, and yells, "Just look at the world around us, right here on the forest floor! Such wonderful things surround us, what more are you looking for?"

Clarke takes her first step down the ramp as Bellamy lowers his arm. She takes a deep breath, and is only vaguely aware of everyone behind her doing the same, before they burst into unison.

"Under the trees, under the trees!" they sing together, and there's something about the sound of ninety-nine voices in perfect chorus that lifts Clarke's heavy heart, something that's almost as magic as seeing the Earth for the very first time. She can hear her own voice intermingled with the others, and the cadence of it surprises her. It's still her voice, of course, but all the bashfulness and hesitation that had usually accompanied her whenever their parents coaxed her and Wells to sing them school ditties is gone. "Everything's greener, the air feels cleaner, no more walls please!"

"We're back, bitches!" Octavia yells out, inciting a murmur of laughter from the crowd that spills out of the dropship, cheering as they bend down to scoop up dirt and grab fistfuls of the scraggly grass that dots the clearing. A boy Clarke's age with a deep voice and a beanie pulled down to cover his ears picks up the melody where Octavia left it.

"Up on the Ark they work all day, out in cold space they float away," he sings, surveying the forest as though considering his next kingdom. "While we devotin’ full time to bein’ under the trees!"

Then that insatiable urge to sing pulls at Clarke again, making her realize her mouth is open before she's even consciously thought of doing so. It's not just the music they're making that's contagious - there's something deeper to the perfect unison they make.

"Under the trees, under the trees," she sings, joining the chorus once more. "Nobody floats us, catch us and lock us, we're finally free!"

When Finn Collins, spacewalker extraordinaire, appears suddenly at Clarke's side, her initial surprise melts to irritation. He doesn't seem to pick up on that, or look remotely sorry that his poor life choices just caused the deaths of two boys, because when the next verse picks up, he's singing right to her.

"In space they called me a crook, under the trees I'm off the hook," he sings, raising an eyebrow at her and extending a hand out - what, does he think she's going to start dancing with him? Spontaneous singing aside, this is where Clarke draws the line. "We're not in trouble get ready to rumble."

"Under the trees," Octavia trills, and the delinquents echo her diligently, their own faces split with wondering smiles. "Under the trees, under the trees! Yeah we're in luck here, down on the Earth here under the trees!"

With her last, triumphant note, the song seems to end, that pull to harmonize in Clarke's chest fading nearly as suddenly as it came. All around her, the delinquents start to drift off in smaller groups, yelling as they crash through undergrowth and chase each other around the trunks of trees. As fun as it was to let off a little steam with the song, Clarke is abruptly reminded that they have work to do. She stomps back into the dropship and steps over the mess the delinquents left in their hurry to get outside, until she finds what she's looking for. The dropship is too dark, so she returns outside and spreads the maps they've been given over the slope of the ramp. 

They've been dropped on the wrong goddamn mountain. 

Out of the corner of her eyes she can see Wells approaching, and ignores him as long as possible in the hopes that he'll go away. He doesn't. She snaps at him when he tries to compliment her talent at drawing a straight line on a map, and resolutely refuses to feel sorry for the hurt look that blooms in his eyes before he manages to hide it. (She does not feel sorry. She just doesn't. Clarke Griffin does not regret her decisions. Wells will just have to live with his, while her father never will again.)

She looks away for thirty seconds, concentrating on the map and searching for a place where the thin blue river is thinnest to cross - though truthfully, they have no idea what kind of erosion has occurred in the last century - and in that time she's not paying attention, Wells somehow manages to get the attention of half a dozen restless teenage boys who look more than eager to take advantage of their now equal footing. 

"We're just trying to figure out where we are," Wells says, in that same smooth, diplomatic voice they've all heard his father use on the intercoms. Clarke has just enough time to think that's a poor choice, reminding them of a man they all hate, when Bellamy Blake and his sister wander into the argument. 

"We're on the ground," Bellamy challenges, his eyes steady and defiant as he looks at Wells. "That not good enough for you?"

A moment later Octavia spits upon the mention of Jaha, and any sense of camaraderie they might have developed while bursting into an impromptu ballad in their first moments on Earth vanishes when the surrounding crowd divides quite visibly into two camps - those lulled by the Blake's natural charisma, and the far smaller number who appear willing to listen to what her and Wells have to say. 

"Do you think we care who's in charge?" Clarke bursts out, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Octavia's taunts. "We need to get to Mount Weather! The longer we wait, the hungrier we'll be. How long do you think we'll last without those supplies?"

And for a tiny spark of a moment, Clarke thinks she's reasoned with them, before Bellamy, fucking  _Bellamy_ , steps up with his attitude and his swagger and suggests that two people bring back enough food for ninety-nine. Chaos descends as Wells tries to argue, and gets a sharp kick to his ankle for his trouble. And god, Clarke is one hundred percent  _done_ with Earth by the time Finn strolls up to her as she's checking Wells' ankle and asks when they're leaving for the bunker. Somehow he ropes two scrawny kids into joining them, and then Octavia decides her best chance of getting laid is tagging along and escaping the watchful gaze of her brother. Clarke chastises Finn for being an absolute idiot for trying to take off his wristband, then Octavia chastises Clarke for being the object of Finn's attention, and then finally they're off. _God,_  she forgot how ridiculous people her age are. 

Solitary was less of a headache.

 

**TRACK TWO**

 

Wells can hear the roar of the crowd around the smattering of campfires before he even gets close. He drops the pile of firewood he's gathered at the edge of camp and limps closer, shouldering his way through the biggest cluster of teenagers. At its center he sees a girl with her arm laid out on a log, gasping in pain as two boys hold her down and pry her wristband off with scrap metal from the dropship. The relief on her face when it finally comes off with a pop is evident by the glow of the fire. 

"Who's next?" Bellamy roars as she stands up, rubbing her bare wrist with a pleased look. Wells should have known he'd be behind this - the goddamn troublemaker. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Wells asks, hobbling forward before the next person has time to.

"Delivering ourselves," Bellamy says with a sneer, waving back a boy who steps towards Wells menacingly. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're trying to get us all killed."

"And I guess you would know how that looks like, considering you've stood by your father's side all these years while he's killed our people," Bellamy replies, and at this, a wave of _'ooohs'_ and scandalized murmurs sweeps through the mob that's hanging on their every word.

"This isn't about my father," Wells says, hating the bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks of the man who raised him. 

"Oh, but it is. It always has been, _Chancellor_ ," Bellamy says mockingly, firelight glinting dangerously in his eyes as he stares Wells down. Then it happens again - that feeling when the dropship door went down and they first saw the trees, that feeling that made Wells feel like he was going to burst out of his skin with the sheer intensity of  _feeling._ He's not surprised when Bellamy opens his mouth again and his next words thrum with the undercurrent of a melody, not the same one his sister began earlier in the day, but an irresistible one all the same. "I'm gonna be a rebel king, so Chancellor beware!"

Judging by the collective entrancement of the surrounding delinquents, Wells isn't the only one who felt the shift from a conversation to a budding musical showdown. He fights against the rhythm that's somehow already ingrained in his being, against an anthem he doesn't want to contribute to.

"I never claimed to disagree," he begins, wincing when the melody slips into his voice despite his best efforts. "But let's work together, plea-"

"You still think you're the main event! Like your father was before," Bellamy sings, and he's started prowling around the campfire, eyes fixed upon Wells. It's impossible to look away - Wells may be responding, but it's already obvious that this song will be Bellamy's domain. "I think it's time for a change of pace, now why don't you abdicate?"

"Seems like chaos is all you'll bring," Wells tries, but Bellamy brushes the accusation off like it's nothing. 

"What's wrong with a little chaos," he says, and then with a smirk he sings louder, finally kicking off the song that's been building up as he turns to the listening crowd and opens up his arms. "Oh, I'll be your rebel king!"

"No one saying do this," a girl in the back sings, her voice wavering at first, and then growing steady as other voices begin to join in with contagious enthusiasm. "No one saying be there, no one saying stop that, no one saying see here! Ain't no Guard to tell us what to do! Be-lla-my we'd rather have you!"

Wells glances about wildly for any hint of support, but everyone's been caught up in the wave of music, unable to resist its strange pull. There's something unnatural about the songs they've sung so far - the choirs never seemed to match so perfectly up on the Ark, their voices never echoing each other's quite so enchantingly, and there were certainly no coups conducted with a happy ballad.

"If you insist, I must agree," Bellamy concedes as the melody flows back to him, and he turns to face Wells again, his face shining with mocking amusement. "Now for my first decree -"

"If this is where the monarchy is headed -" Wells begins, only to be interrupted.

"Oh, I'll be the rebel king!" Bellamy roars, his voice overpowering Wells, and Wells falls silent as the rest of the delinquents take up Bellamy's rhythm, some finding sticks to bang against the logs they're sitting on to accompany the voices. Then, before the song can continue, a sudden rumble echoes through the sky above them. Wells looks up immediately, his first thought  _oh goody, the clouds are going to join in with the madness too?_   before he sees dark, purple-blue clouds obscuring the stars overhead, and raindrops start to fall. 

As though the water broke a spell, the delinquents leap up to throw their hands in the air at the droplets that pitter-patter down on them. 

Rain is... glorious. Wells lets out a quiet gasp as it soaks his skin, droplets weighing down his eyelashes and tickling the hands he extends towards it. Rationed showers on the Ark couldn't have prepared any of them for this.

"We need to collect this," Wells says earnestly to Bellamy, hoping that for once the older man will set aside his obvious disdain for authority and listen to pure logic. Bellamy's gaze slides over to him, and his face looks younger with the droplets of water sliding down it, his mouth parted in wonder quieter than that of the surrounding teenagers, but no less powerful. Bellamy looks at him, thoughtful, and for a moment Wells think they'll be able to reach an alliance while his audience is distracted by the rain. 

"Whatever the hell you want," Bellamy says softly, and that hope falls away. Wells sets his jaw and says nothing in return as Bellamy turns and walks away. And he senses that although the song might have stopped when the rain interrupted, it's only been paused and not finished. No, Bellamy Blake is not done with whatever he's planning, and Wells is filled with a deep sense of foreboding.

 

 

**TRACK THREE**

 

They make it as far as the river Clarke marked on her map before they call it quits for the night - Octavia's limping with every step she takes on the leg the giant snake bit, even though she tries valiantly to hide it, and they've covered a good amount of ground that afternoon anyway. They find a mossy clearing to settle down in for the night, and Clarke suppresses smiles as Jasper and Monty tease each other goodnaturedly and beam with happiness whenever they manage to make Octavia laugh. 

Clarke's not sure what wakes her later that night, whether it's a distant sound in the forest or the faint grumbling of her stomach or simply the light behind her eyelids where there should be none. She sits up and blinks groggily, and for a moment she wonders if she's dreaming when she sees the bioluminescent forest all around her. 

"Oh my god," Clarke says reverently as she scrambles to her feet. She checks over her shoulder to see if she's woken the others, and finds Octavia and the boys sleeping soundly on a bed of moss. Finn must be nearby as well. She opens her mouth to wake them, to have them witness the beautiful sights too, and then falls silent. 

It may be selfish of her, but she wants this to herself. It's nice to be around people again, after the extent of her human interaction for a year was the guards who brought her food, but part of her grew accustomed to the lull of solitary and she thinks she needs a breath alone before she can return to them. 

And so Clarke slips off into the forest, following a trail of glowing ferns and stopping in wonder to brush her hands over the stems of bright blue-green flowers.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

She jumps a little when Finn appears behind her like a ghost, shaggy hair tucked behind his ears. They both share a breathy laugh, looking around at the sight around them. She worried a little, when night first fell, but Clarke doesn't think a place this beautiful could ever hide dangers. Then he holds up a large, cupped leaf with water in it, and Clarke raises her eyebrows in surprise. 

"Did you go to the river?" she asks. Finn shrugs and holds the leaf further out. She takes it gently, careful not to spill a drop of the water gathered inside. 

"Figured it was worth losing a finger or two," Finn jokes, and Clarke smiles as she raises the leaf to her lips and drinks. The water is cool and refreshing, and, like she found the air to be when the dropship ramp first dropped, strangely sweet. It's not entirely surprising that everything onboard the Ark would be stale after so many decades of recycling. She drinks deeply at Finn's prompting, and when he leans in close and Clarke feels that pull inside of her again, she knows, somehow, instinctively, they're going to start singing again.

"I can show you the world, glowing, gleaming and vivid," Finn croons, his voice low and private and only for her. "Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?"

Clarke rolls her eyes at the nickname and tries not to smile, feeling a little embarrassed about being serenaded in the dark of a glowing forest.

"I can open your eyes," Finn continues, his eyes earnest as his hands reach out and help her hold the water-filed leaf. His skin is warm, and it's been a long time since Clarke received any gentle touches. It's perfectly normal that she starts to blush. "Show you forest and river, over, sideways and under on a magic moonlit stroll."

"Really now?" Clarke asks dryly. Finn smiles at her a little crookedly, leans in even closer. 

"Sing with me princess," he whispers, and so she joins him on the next verse they both instinctively know the words to.

"An irradiated world," they sing, stretching the notes out as long as they'll go. "Trees paint-ed in green and blue, no one to tell us no or where to go, or say we're only dreaming..."

"An irradiated world, nothing like the one we knew," Finn sings when she pauses to catch her breath. "Long way from the Ark to here, stars like a chandelier above this irradiated world debut."

"We should show the others," Clarke sings breathlessly, running her hand over the nearby plants once more, liking the way their tips tickle her palm. "Look at all of these colours - cyan, sapphire, midnight through an endless glowing night."

But when she turns to return to the clearing in which they bedded down, Finn grabs her arm and pulls her back, eyes wide and pleading.

"An irradiated world, every sight a surprise, they're not going anywhere, there's time to spare," he implores. "Let me share this irradiated world with you..."

Clarke hangs onto the last notes of the song as long as she can, but eventually that now-familiar itch in her throat fades and she's no longer blessed with supernatural rhyme-making abilities. 

"Come on," she says gently, pulling away and heading towards the others. "They'll love this."

They do. 

The next morning, Finn hums their melody under his breath as they tie together a rope to help them swing over the river, and Clarke's lips twitch into a smile. Jasper volunteers to go first, taking a deep breath before he's finally pushed across. They all cheer as he makes it to the other side, and as he holds the rusted sign up into the air and shouts  _we are apogee,_ Clarke wonders if they're about to burst into another song, this one triumphant and proud, when the spear comes out of nowhere and pins Jasper to a tree behind him. 

In hindsight, their recent vocal tendencies did not make them very conspicuous. 

 


	2. Tracks IV-VI: Earth and Ark, Touch Butterflies, Holding On For a Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the musical production of the 100 that I couldn't resist inflicting upon you! I'm so sorry. I highly recommend giving a listen to the following songs before reading the chapter so the melody is fresh in your mind and you can sing along with our favourite spunky teen protagonists! (except Finn, no 1 liks Finn.)  
> [Red and Black](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjp-Gyo5tNM) from Les Misérables (I used the 2012 movie soundtrack as basis)  
> [Touch The Sky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7uM-scjyLw) from the Brave soundtrack  
> [Holding Out For a Hero](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puTtnqoqHLQ) from the Shrek 2 soundtrack (yes, I went there.)  
> Read on for a Bellarke musical showdown, Octavia channeling her inner Merida, and... whatever the hell that last song is supposed to be.

 

**TRACK FOUR**

 

The trek back to the dropship passes in a blur - Clarke remembers hauling one of Octavia's arms over her shoulder at one point to help her keep weight off her injured leg, but adrenaline and that haunting echo of Jasper's last scream drown out the passage of time. Once they start to hear sounds of conversation as they approach the crash sight, some of Clarke's numbness fades, and she feels the others speeding up at the thought of safety as well. It isn't until they reach the top of the ravine where most of the hundred have gathered that she realizes what they're cheering for. 

At the ravine's base, Wells and Murphy have picked right up where they ended the day before - only now, Murphy's acquired a knife. As Clarke watches, open-mouthed, Wells dodges a wild slash and steps in close, grabbing the hand with the knife. 

"Drop it!" Wells demands, as teenagers from the sidelines boo the new development in the fight. 

"Wells!" Clarke yells, leaving Finn to support Octavia and rushing down the ravine's slope. "Let him go!"

As though summoned by the promise of a confrontation, Bellamy appears, and Clarke tries not to think too hard about the way Murphy automatically follows his command. 

"What the hell happened out there?" Bellamy demands, once he's seen the blood that's seeped through Octavia's pant leg, and they explain the situation in hurried sentences, stumbling over one another. The listening delinquents press in on all sides, anxious muttering passing through the crowd as Clarke raises her voice over the clamor. 

"Where's the kid with the goggles?" Wells asks, stepping forward, but Clarke's more interested in his bare wrist. She follows his line of sight to a smirking Bellamy.

"How many?" Clarke asks, her mouth going dry. Something more than anger or worry starts to build under her skin, and she realizes distantly that the strange bouts of singing that plagued them yesterday haven't gone yet.

"Twenty-four and counting," Murphy answers for him, his words thrumming with that undercurrent of a song, and when Clarke speaks again, her voice automatically latches on to that same stirring of a tune.

"This is bad news, I can't believe none of you can see! Without them," Clarke shouts, jabbing a rigid finger up at the sky, where the Ark is orbiting far above, unaware of what's going on below. "We're in greater danger than we would be! They need a sign, to send down our people, to let them find out that life on Earth's fine!"

For a moment, it seems like that strange persuasive power that accompanies their singing will win the listening delinquents over - and Clarke sweeps her gaze over the uneasy crowd, some of them sheepishly rubbing their bare wrists with something close to regret. But she should have known she wouldn't be the only one to catch onto the melody. A moment later, Bellamy saunters into her space, his body language relaxed and confident, and only she's close enough to see the wariness in his eyes. He's afraid - of her? Of losing power?

"Princess, don't groan, haven't you heard? There is a new king on the throne," he sings, his deep voice carrying and betraying none of that alarm she sees in the shadows of his face. "We're stronger than you think we are!"

"Strong you say, strong maybe," Clarke sings impulsively, stepping into his line of sight as he tries to turn to sing to the delinquents instead. "Strong enough to be speared to a tree! Jasper was first, who will be next?"

"Earth!" Bellamy belts out, completely overpowering her voice. "The home to start anew!"

"Ark!" Clarke replies, mirroring his tune, "The home we always knew!"

It's no use. The delinquents have picked up his melody, and the next line he sings is echoed by more than half the listening crowd.

"Earth! Where we're safe from rule!"

"Ark!" Clarke sings, and only a handful of people back her up - Wells, of course, and the others who came to the river. Not nearly enough. "The people we need too!"

"You are afraid, you are dismayed, " Bellamy says softly as the chorus ends. Then his face suddenly hardens and the next lines are loud and mocking: "I don't blame you, you've never known what hardship can do! You talk of justice and harmony, yet want us to bow to your monarchy!"

"It's better than a comedy!" Murphy jumps in helpfully, before Bellamy pushes him to the side, spreading his arms wide to draw the attention of all the delinquents.

"It is time for us all to decide who we are, do we fight for the right to be second-class citizens now?" he sings, and Clarke hates that she almost finds herself caught up in the smooth flow of his voice - it's the anomaly, she thinks fiercely. She doesn't know if it's magic or radiation or something else altogether that's making them all sing, but whatever it is lends power and beauty to their voices that didn't exist on the Ark. "Have you asked what you owe to the ones that tossed you away? They call you criminals, but will forgive your crimes, they say? I say, the powers of the world should worry about us!"

"Earth," Clarke sings stubbornly, refusing to back down just yet. "Not here for your stupid coup!"

"Ark!" Bellamy and the majority of the delinquents answer, "A cage from which we flew!"

"Earth," Clarke tries again, "It's dangerous for you!"

"Ark!" the delinquents reply, their voices swelling up in volume like a physical wave to sweep the ravine and the surrounding forest. "Don't need their help, it's true!"

The last notes linger in the air long after they've finished, and eventually the crowd breaks up, leaving Clarke to stand defeated at the bottom of the ravine. Bellamy gives her a long, indescribable look over his shoulder, before shaking his head and focusing firmly on bandaging Octavia up. Clarke grits her teeth. She's suffered worse than this - she and Wells endured this sort of behaviour most of their lives, after all. Only the stakes have never been quite this high. 

She determinedly pushes away her fears and sets about forming a party to go after Jasper - or what's left of him. Griffins don't leave their own behind. Not even if they have to put up with the likes of Bellamy and Murphy to do it.

 

  
**TRACK FIVE**

 

Nearly a year in prison has made Octavia lean and tough, like a wolf in the woods, starved not by the two-thirds ration she grew up on but by the lack of affection. 

So it comes as a fair surprise, then, when Monty all but bares his soul to her as he's fiddling with the wristband, trying to send a message back to the Ark. She eyes him critically for a moment, mulling over the unexpected vulnerability and how bizarrely open his worry for Jasper runs. It's not entirely unwelcome.

"You're not gonna cry, are you?" she drawls, and Monty gives her a sharp look, before his face melts into sheepish humour.

The clang of the hatch door draws their attention away from Monty's tinkering and to Atom's face, illuminated by the light coming from the lower levels. Octavia's glad Monty doesn't begrudge her leaving, because as much as she enjoys his company, the dropship is starting to feel like her compartment under the floor. She takes Atom's peace offering without hesitation, stepping outside and breathing deeply. _God,_ she'll never get sick of this air. It fills her up like sunshine, like... Well, rather like that expectant breath before a song. 

She spots the butterfly entirely by accident, and seeing that bright blue flutter between the trees, she's finally able to put words to the loose feeling in her chest.

"Out of the corners of my eyes, strange colours, clean and bright," Octavia sings quietly, dodging couples frantically making up for time lost in lock-up, gazed fixed on the glowing beat of wings. "I see a trail of butterflies, blue brighter than sunlight..."

At the treeline she glances over her shoulder one last time to make sure no one's noticed her escape, and then she plunges into the bushes after the butterfly. It leads her several paces away from the camp, all the sounds of conversation fading to a distant buzz by the time it settles on a log in front of her. 

"No more lies, no more disguise, I'm free to be and touch butterflies," Octavia sings, her voice ringing with clarity and joy. "I will rise, see the world and touch butterflies! Where once I was a secret, I will hide away no more! They couldn't crush my spirit, not under the floor."

She reaches out, almost hesitantly, and can't stop the smile that bursts over her face as the butterfly crawls up onto her outstretched finger, blinking its bright wings at her for a moment before taking flight again. Octavia follows its ascent with her wondering gaze and feels her breath catch in her throat as she notices dozens more butterflies in the air around her, all blinking blue as though to say  _join us, join us, join us._

"Like the hero in Bell's stories, I will be more than I seem! They'll remember my glories, like once I dared to dream," she sings, her lips stretched into a smile as butterflies settle onto her arms, their touch gentle and feather-light. The music swells triumphantly in her, feeling like a victory embodied. "No more lies, no more disguise, I'm free to be and touch butterflies! I will rise, see the world and touch butterflies!"

Footsteps on the forest floor behind Octavia alert her that she's no longer alone. She turns and sees Atom slow his walk as he catches sight of her, standing with her arms open wide, butterflies outlining her silhouette in vivid blue, and she can't even bring herself to be mad that he followed. He's looking at her with something like awe in his eyes, and - and Octavia's never been looked at like that before, and rather than making her feel self-conscious it makes her feel powerful. She lowers her arms hardly notices the butterflies take off. The music is slowing.

"Touch butterflies," Octavia echoes quietly, caught up in the last notes of her song. Atom is still staring at her. "Free to be, and see the world, and touch butterflies."

He steps forward, and she meets him halfway into the kiss, feeling like she could take on the world.

 

  
**TRACK SIX**

 

Honestly, if Bellamy Blake didn't possess the only gun that came with them to the ground, Clarke would have already thrown him into the same river she and Finn took an impromptu dip in. His heavy gaze on her is bad enough - she can feel it on her swaying wrist, the metal band burning hot with his attention, but it's the humming that really drives her mad. He and Murphy are walking at the back of the group, Wells somewhere between them, but even with the distance Clarke can hear the remnants of the tune they sung in the ravine, Earth and Ark clashing together. 

He won! Clarke can admit that. If it is possible to 'win' a song, then Bellamy won. Doesn't mean he needs to make sure the damn melody never leaves their head. 

"Would you shut up already!" Clarke whirls around and shouts once she's had enough. Even Finn looks surprised at the outburst, but Bellamy just raises his eyebrows.

"It's stuck in my head," he replies. "It was quite a catchy tune, after all."

"Well then, sing something else," Clarke snaps, before marching on ahead, willing Finn with her eyes to stop giving her that  _look_  and turn back to following Jasper's trail. 

She really, really shouldn't have asked. Scarcely a heartbeat after she dares Bellamy to change his tune, she feels a new one itch in her throat. Her hand flies up to her neck automatically, and part of her can't help but groan in dismay. Surely singing as they trample through the forest will make it even easier for their mysterious attackers to find them! Unless some kind of etiquette has developed in the last century about waiting until the end of a musical number to commit murder. 

"Where has all the good sense gone," Bellamy draws out, his voice clearly over-exaggerated and melodramatic for her benefit. "And where's your bloody trail? Jasper's life seems like a con, perhaps you dreamed his wail?"

"Would it kill you to do a good deed? What if it were Octavia that you left alone to bleed?" Wells sings back in reply, his familiar voice making Clarke fumble her step, just a little, before she reminds herself that Wells is no longer a part of her life. She refuses to gain any comfort from the voice that kept her company through sleepless nights, the voice she heard crack and break its way through puberty, the voice that betrayed her days after promising to keep a secret.

Just then, a low, pained moan breaks their melody.

"Now would be a good time to take out that gun," Clarke mutters to Bellamy, stubbornly refusing to join in with the melody even though her throat burns with the resistance. Bellamy gives her a dark, level look as they creep forward quieter now, more hesitant. 

And then, through the break in the undergrowth, Clarke sees Jasper and can't hold in a gasp. They leave the shadows of the woods as one, throwing caution to the wind at the sight of their fellow criminal roughly lashed to a dead tree, and this time Clarke doesn't begrudge the music that bursts out of them in unison.

"He needs a hero! He's holding out for a hero 'til the end of his life. We've gotta be strong and we've gotta be fast - cut him down, have you got a knife?" they sing together as they approach. "He needs a hero! He's holding out for a hero 'til the end of his life. He's gotta be hurt and we've gotta be quick, to keep him from the afterlife-"

On  _afterlife_ , as though the universe is listening for ironic musical cues, the ground beneath Clarke suddenly gives out and she finds the last word torn from her mouth by a frightened shriek. Then her whole body jerks to a stop, pain radiating down the length of her arm, and Clarke forgets how to breathe as she looks between the cruel-looking spikes at the bottom of the pit that opened up beneath her, and Bellamy's hand tight around her wrist, that horrible band of metal pressed between her skin. 

He's looking at it too, and Clarke realizes with a sickening lurch that it would be very easy for him to drop her, now, and be done with the business of power. He knows it, too. Their eyes meet, and a muscle in Bellamy's jaw jumps.

"You'd better hold on tight, or I might just let you go. Full control just beyond my reach - But you're reaching back for me," he sings through gritted teeth, his voice low and vaguely threatening. There are shouts of alarm from ahead, but Clarke's looking only at him, as his eyes clear and he seems to come to a decision. "More trouble than you're worth and stubborn as can be - I hope I don't regret this the next time we disagree."

Other hands clasp her arms, and slowly, Clarke's hauled up from the rim of the pit. They collapse in a panting heap at its edge, and her wrist burns with more than the strain of all her weight. She rubs at the metal absently, looking up to meet Bellamy's eyes.

"It was all there for you to seize, if only you had dropped me," she sings. He averts his eyes suddenly.

"I could swear that there's something in the trees, watching me," Murphy interrupts, standing slightly off to the side, squinting at the edge of the forest. Clarke follows his line of sight reluctantly, and then scrambles to her feet at the glowing pair of eyes that emerge from between tall grasses, followed by a long, lithe body.

"Hero!" they all shout in unison, and it happens as though in slow motion - the panther creeping forward with a snarl, Bellamy standing, reaching for the gun at his waistband only to find empty space, and then - of all people! - Wells leaping between them and the wildcat.

"I'll be a hero, keep holding on for a hero, for a shining knight," he all but bellows, his voice rich and powerful in the clearing. Gunshots punctuate the pauses between lines, and each one rattles Clarke's ears, but the song goes on: "My aim's not too sure - and I've gotta hit soon, and I've gotta end this fight!"

"Hero!" they all repeat, and on the same beat one of Wells' bullets finally finds its aim true. The panther crumples just as it was gearing for a leap, and as it writhes in the grass and finally lies still, they all find themselves breathless, staring down at it. A tense moment of silence passes, as Wells and Bellamy regard each other with something close to evaluation, and Murphy is the one who breaks it.

"Oh I need a hero!" he sings in an absurd falsetto, the sneer rather running his attempt at batting his eyelashes at Wells. 

"Shut up, Murphy," Finn snaps.

"You're just mad you didn't get a musical solo," Murphy taunts, and Finn opens his mouth, perhaps to argue back, perhaps to smugly inform him that he and Clarke shared a very nice duet last night, thank you very much - cute or not, Clarke thinks she'd push him into a lake for that - so she clears her throat abruptly and crosses her arms. 

"We came for Jasper?" Clarke reminds them, and is faced with four varying degrees of sheepishness as they turn their attention back to the teenage boy cruelly tied up by uncaring hands. 

As she's tending to his wound that night, straining to examine the peculiar poultice by the dropship's waning light, Clarke half-wishes another song would start up, if only because time and work seem to pass by so quickly when they're singing, as though hurried by a musical montage. Unfortunately no such thing happens, and once her stomach starts growling she leaves Jasper's side with a long-suffering sigh. Outside, darkness is fallen and a hazy cloud of smoke from their cookfire partially obscures their view of the stars, but Clarke looks up anyway, searching for an Ark where things made sense and people didn't match harmony every few hours.

She doesn't spot it. She wasn't really expecting to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're actually reading this I'm utterly amazed.  
> Unfortunately I do not have amusing alternate lyrics for this chapter, but I hope the tribute to the best musical rescue in cinematic history (thank u Shrek for one of the few good things u brought to this cruel world) was entertaining enough.  
> I would appreciate a betareader for this fic! There would be less proofreading (because I literally do not take this fic seriously enough to edit it) and more me ranting possible plot changes at you and you telling me what is viable. If you're interested, hit me up - I'm [kindclaws](http://kindclaws.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! If you're not interested... hit me up anyway! I'm v friendly.  
> Thank you for your wasted time.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that happened.  
> I'm not a musical person, like, _at all_ , so if anyone wants to make a better lyrics suggestion, or recommend songs for other chapters/musicals to watch, that would be highly appreciated. Most of the ones I have so far are Disney, but The Sound of Music makes an appearance, as does Les Mis and various Dreamworks movies, and I'm trying to get West Side Story and Rent to cooperate.  
> This will be updated very very slowly - I have two songs plotted for the next episode, need to polish them and come up with a third. I'm following canon 'for the most part' but making the occasional 'improvement'. Bellarke is endgame whether or not it becomes canon, because fuck authorial intent. That last song with Finn was really hard to write because I detest him and kept wanting to rhyme 'long way from the Ark to here' with things like 'Jasper gets hit by a spear' and 'By the way Clarke's queer'. Kept having to remind myself that even if I don't take him seriously, Clarke must have been endeared by his floppiness.  
> I'm gonna go hide now, this entire fic is ridiculous and I can't believe I started writing it. I may have one tiny regret.  
> Find me on tumblr as kindclaws.


End file.
